


Play For Me?

by Isnt_It_Strange (Caring_Is_Not_An_Advantage)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Eventual Romance, Injury, IronStrange, M/M, More characters will be added as I go, Music AU, Musical Collaboration, Musician Stephen Strange, Musician Tony Stark, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Stephen Strange/Christine Palmer - Freeform, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark Friendship, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Physical Therapy, Pianist Tony, Rehabilitation, Slow Burn, Violinist Stephen, Will add tags as I go, Writing music, musician au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-01-25 13:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18575578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caring_Is_Not_An_Advantage/pseuds/Isnt_It_Strange
Summary: There's something wrong with the person in the flat above.For the last year, Tony's life has been filled with music. A mystery maestro living above him is a god amongst men and has kept Tony entertained on many evenings spent alone. However, when they suddenly disappear and the music is taken with them, Tony is determined to find out why.





	1. The Music Has Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I have way too many WIPs but I have this pretty much written and I had to share! I'm so excited to write this, I hope people enjoy!
> 
> Until next time, guys!

There was something wrong with the person in the flat above.

Ever since Tony had moved into his new flat, there had always been music. The sound of a violin being played, the rumbling of someone humming or even the sound of a record seeping through the thin walls and filling the air with constant sound. It was one of the reasons he had bought the place, having heard the mystery person and their music when he had come to view the property. It was one of its charms, he supposed, having a neighbour with such a penchant for sound and melodies.

At Christmas there had been the angelic _Silent Night_ played, singular and pure amongst the sound of carols being sung outside the apartment block. At New Years, there had been the sound of _Auld Lang Syne_ which had been accompanied by the sound of church bells striking with the turn of the new year.

But then it stopped.

Winter came with its snow and ice and melted away, bringing in the fresh colour and delights of spring. The birds sang, laughter echoed from the streets below, but Tony’s mystery musician had stopped their wonderful playing. He had no idea what had happened, whether they had moved away or whether they had caught on to the audience they had gained, but the music that had given him joy and had enticed him into moving here had vanished into silence.

“I’m telling you, Rhodey, it’s weird.” He told his friend, sat at his kitchen counter and eyeing the ceiling as though hoping he would hear it once again. He scratched at the stubble along his jaw, uttering a sigh and shaking his head.

James mirrored Tony, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. For the last year he had heard of this enigma living in his apartment block, this _maestro_ that had bewitched Tony from the first second he had walked in. With a sympathetic smile he clapped a hand onto his shoulder, squeezing supportively.

“Tony, they probably just moved. People move on, looking for new places. If they played as often as you say they probably got a few too many noise complaints.”

“Complaints? You never heard them play, they were… well, incredible.”

Tony’s eyes gained a sparkle whenever he spoke about his maestro, one of utter adoration for a person he had never even met. There was just _something_ about them, something that intrigued him, and he had spent many nights fantasising about what kind of person could create such beautiful music.

In his mind he had built up this picture, a woman. She had fiery red hair, freckles, eyes that glittered with mischief and a cheeky smile to boot. She played the violin with such passion, standing in front of the window looking down at the street below while her fingers floated over the strings and guided the bow with such mastery. She was a mere dream, a figment of his imagination and yet he had dreamed of her on many a night.

Rhodey, of course, thought that his depiction of her was hilarious.

“Man, we’ve got to get you a date or something. Your head’s in the clouds.”

For his comment, he earned himself a folder thrown at his chest. Tony’s lips had curled into a grin, cheeky as he saw a flash of annoyance in his friend’s eyes and promptly rolled his own, ducking as the folder was aimed sharply at his head.

“Hey!” He cried, “there’s some precious stuff in there!”

A few of the sheets slipped from beneath the folder’s covers, sheets of paper with notes hastily scribbled on in pencil, some scribbled out and replaced over and over again. At the top of each sheet there was a title, each with an individual question mark beside it. Tony swiftly scooped each one up, placing it back into the red folder and slamming it shut again. He ignored the amusement on James’ face, going and putting it back on its spot on the Ikea shelf.

“Speakin’ of musicians, Stark, when are you gonna start playing again?” Rhodey raised a brow and smirked, seeing that his friend had the decency to look away primly; the colour rising on his cheeks subtly as there was no good retort.

“When I have figured out _what_ I’m going to play, Rhodey.” Tony huffed, glancing over to the piano in the corner covered in cardboard boxes, records having filled each one to the brim. “I’ll get there, I’m just… busy.”

“Yeah, well, get your ass in gear sometime soon, eh? You need to get yourself a gig somewhere, play for a bit, stop bein’ so scared.” He scoffed, getting up from the kitchen stool and crossing the apartment to have a look at the piano. “Christ, when was the last time you used this thing?”

Tony followed James over to the large instrument, letting his fingers run across its side arm, then the fallboard. He hadn’t played since he’d moved in, if he was honest with himself. There was something a little intimidating about knowing how thin the walls were here, about how there was a master on the floor above that would be able to hear him so incredibly out of practice. He frowned, not liking the fact he had been so unproductive with his music. It had been his passion for so long, why the hell hadn’t he kept it up?

Work. That was the answer. Work, down at the local garage. Fixing up people’s cars and bikes for so many hours a day had left him constantly busy, tinkering for most of the hours of the days. He hadn’t had the _time_ anymore to spend his hours sat at his piano, letting his fingers drift across the keys and letting the music just take over. He hadn’t had the time to spend hour after hour scribbling down notes and chords he would never take the time to play, or lyrics to the songs he would never take the time to sing.

The sound of a beeping phone took him from his thoughts, his eyes flicking up to James as he received a text.

“Damn, I’m gonna have to go. Got called into work last second,” he explained while reaching for his jacket. “Seriously, Tony, go do something, or at least consider playing the piano again, eh?” With a pat to the back and a wave, James headed to the door and took his leave; Tony haven’t even having the chance to move an inch from the side of the piano.

Well, there was only one thing he could do now, wasn’t there?

It took him only about ten minutes to clear the piano of the clutter, boxes being pushed to the floor and the keys were cleared of dust. Papers were brushed from the stool and the floor around it cleared so he could move without hitting something. When he sat down on it he felt a small wave of nostalgia, his eyes drifting over the ivory and a smile coming unbidden to his face. A warmth filled his chest and he knew this felt _right_ , that he’d missed this immensely.

His index finger pressed upon the C key and the note that came caused him to wince immediately. _Damn it_ he thought to himself, _need to get this tuned._ That settled that then, he’d get it tuned on Monday. It was only Saturday, so he didn’t have to wait too long.

Tony huffed and rose back onto his feet, glancing around and clicking his tongue as he thought about what to do. Scrunching up his nose he slipped into the kitchen and stuck his head beneath the sink, looking around for some polish. If he couldn’t play his piano just yet, he might as well tidy it up a little bit.

The whole cleaning process took him well into the evening, every inch of the fine wood getting an equal amount of attention. In fact, Tony was cleaning the underside of the piano when a rather sharp sound came from the flat above and caused him to bolt upright; his head hitting the wood with a sharp _smack_.

“Shit!” He spat, rolling out from his current spot and holding his head as it throbbed. Cradling it, he let his fingers comb through his hair and seek out the lump that would undoubtedly form, wincing as he prodded at it.

Another sharp sound and then another, this time louder, and Tony could barely recognise it as a discordant tune on the violin. The bow wielder clearly was inexperienced, unsteadily playing each note slowly until there was an anguished shout of something akin to _fuck_ and the crashing of something hitting the floor.

Tony knew very well what apartment the sound was coming from and before he knew it he was on his feet, heading towards his front door. It couldn’t be… could it? The noise was coming from his mystery maestro’s place, but instead of the joyful sounds he had grown accustomed to it was simply horrid. More shouting could be heard and he was out of the door, heading up the stairs before he could even think of a way to excuse what he was doing. The voice in his head told him this was none of his business, but as he had a habit of doing he squashed it into silence and before he could understand what exactly he was doing he was in front of the door, fist raised to knock.

He tapped his knuckle against the cream wood of the stranger’s front door, able to hear the angry shouting from inside die down into nothing more than angered huffing. A beat passed, then another, and just when Tony was beginning to regret his sudden impulsiveness the door flew open.

“Can I help you?” A deep, baritone voice rumbled, hardly containing its irritation.

 _Definitely not a fiery haired girl, with the sparkling eyes and cheeky grin._ His mind supplied helpfully as he looked up at the man he had just decided to disturb. _Try a pale, chestnut haired bloke with a face just like a slapped ass._

“Hi, I’m Tony. Tony Stark.” He said after a moment, giving his usual charming grin and hoping he could think of an excuse to be there fast enough. Well, an excuse besides ‘I heard you shouting and trying to play and wondered what the fuck happened’. “Heard you were in and wanted to introduce myself, I realise we’ve never had the chance to meet.” He held out his hand, waiting for a moment and realising very quickly this man had no interest in shaking it. Dropping it to his side he risked a glance over his shoulder, able to see a violin thrown to the floor; its neck snapped clean into two.

“Stephen, Stephen Strange.”


	2. A Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has now met his mystery maestro, but not is all as he hoped. When a friend asks him to meet he decides it's the perfect chance to take his mind off of him. He is then met with a surprise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, thank you so much for the wonderful feedback guys! I am so pleased that this story has been met with such support! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!
> 
> Until Next Time <3

“Nice to meet you at last, Stephen.” 

Tony smiled, though his anxiety was starting to make itself known as he shoved his hands into his pockets. God, he didn’t think this through, did he? He really didn’t. What could he even say?! “Did I hear you playing the violin just now?” He dared to ask, seeing Stephen’s expression twist into something unpleasant and immediately regretting his choices. “I play the-”

“No, you heard nothing of the sort.” Stephen took a step back, his hand tightening its grip on the door as though tempted to slam it shut. 

It was at that moment Tony noticed something rather peculiar, a silvering spiders web of scars littered across the top of Stephen’s hands. They were still partially pink, not yet completely healed, and the whole hand trembled terribly. He quickly realised that he must have been staring for far too long because the taller man clenched his free hand and tucked it behind his back.

If looks could kill, Tony would have been long gone. 

“If there is nothing else?” Stephen prompted, shifting his eyes from Tony to the hallway behind him, frown only becoming deeper as it seemed the other man wasn’t quite getting the hint. “I have some cleaning to get back to, excuse me.” 

“Right,” Tony trailed off, drawing out the word slowly before clicking his tongue. “Well, I guess I should leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you.” 

There was no reply from Stephen besides a rather fed up grunt, the door slamming shut between them and causing Tony to sigh. 

Well, that had been a waste of time.

Returning downstairs, he sighed and entered his flat with a disappointed huff. So much for the cheeky neighbour he had been hoping for. Stephen Strange was  _ not  _ what he had been expecting. The man was almost desperate for Tony to leave as soon as he had opened the door!

“It’s your own fault,” he told himself as he glanced mournfully at his piano, “you had to go and ruin the illusion for yourself.” 

Walking over to the piano he let his hand stroke the newly polished wood, enjoying the coolness of it until he heard the little  _ ding  _ from his phone.

**Coffee? -PP**

Pepper, she would take his mind off of this strange disappointment. He could rely on Pepper. Still, he couldn’t help but laugh a little at the suggestion of coffee of all things.

**At this time? You must be mad. -TS**

**You can have decaf if you’re that bothered. I want to talk to you about something. -PP**

**Can’t it wait until I see you tomorrow? -TS**

**Now, Tony. I’ll meet you down at Robert’s for that coffee in about ten minutes. -PP**

With a roll of his eyes Tony went to grab his jacket, double checking that he had his wallet and keys. From upstairs he could hear a record being played, soft and mournful and doing nothing to cover the anguished sounds of the man who lived there. Wishing he could hear the music he adored he left the flat, dashing down the stairs without casting a look back. For now, he could look forward to seeing his friend after a few months of silence on both their ends.

His relationship with Miss Pepper Potts had begun when Tony was nineteen, a whirlwind romance that had taken his life by storm and had consumed him. They had been part of the town’s local musician troupe, Pepper as a vocalist and Tony as a pianist. Their music director had asked Tony to play  _ Stand By Me  _ on the piano one day completely out of the blue. At first he hadn’t known why, but when he heard Pepper sing he had understood in its entirety. She had a lovely voice, pure and powerful and just right to his tastes. Tony could remember fondly asking her to coffee that afternoon, from there their relationship going from strangers to friends and then to so much more.

Despite having separated well over two years ago, Pepper had continued to be an invaluable friend to Tony through thick and thin. When he had been looking for a place to move into she had come with him to view the flat he now lived in, hearing the same music and having just a wondrous response as he had. She had encouraged him to buy the place, to turn it into the music studio he had always wanted, to finally delve into his dreams and make something of himself. 

Of course, life had gotten in the way of that idea.

Robert’s cafe was a relatively quiet spot only a short walk away from Tony’s flat, with vintage decor from many different periods of history scattered across the walls and even a plastic shark hanging from the ceiling. It was a unique place, tucked away from the main street and a rather well kept secret he and Pepper had discovered together a few years before. That had been when they had been dating and they had just come back from a trip to London, racing through the rain and laughing together on the way to Tony’s flat when they saw the little light and followed it.

Now, there was the soft 80s music crackling over an old radio, the same familiar lights glittering in the darkening street and beckoning him ever closer. Standing in front of the large window peering inside was Pepper, dressed to kill in dark navy blue trousers, a white button up blouse and a blue blazer jacket. Her arms were folded over her chest as she glanced down the road, a smile blessing her features as she spotted Tony jogging down the pavement to meet her. 

“Tony,” she grinned, reaching to give her friend a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s been ages, where have you been hiding?”

“Oh, you know, Pep’.” Tony gave a laugh, returning the peck to her cheek and giving her a friendly squeeze in his arms. “Down at the garage most of the time, you know how work can be.”

“Just the garage? You’ve not been creating a brand new music piece for me to practice?” She teased, her eyes sparkling as she ushered him into the cafe. 

Tony gave a good natured laugh and gave her a nudge, motioning over to their usual table and taking his usual seat. It had been Christmas the last time they had gotten together like this, exchanging gifts in the gap between their busy schedules and promising each other it wouldn’t be too long before they met up again. 

Well, there are worse things to lie about. 

“So, what is it you  _ have  _ to talk to me about that couldn’t wait?” Tony raised a brow and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, smirking at the pink flush rising on Pepper’s cheeks. 

“I’ve been offered a record deal.” 

Pepper’s face was one of delight, her eyes sparkling as she awaited Tony’s reaction. For many years she had been working towards this, getting offered a deal and being able to live off of her musical talents. Now was her chance to be a star, though Tony had always told her she had never  _ not  _ been a star in the first place. 

“You have?! Pep’, I’m so proud.” Tony grinned, patting her hand and giving it a little pinch. When she glared at him he held his hands up with a laugh, “wanted you to know you aren't dreaming. Wait, actually pinch  _ me _ ! I must be dreamin’!” 

Pepper gently tapped his arm and laughed, her eyes sparkling as she reached into her bag and grabbed her purse. “I got the phone call this afternoon, that’s why I wanted to see you so soon. Good enough reason?”

“More than, Pep’. You’re really doing well for yourself.”

The waitress came on over and asked them if they were ready to order, Tony grabbing a decaf cappuccino and Pepper ordering a green tea. As soon as they vanished again, Tony turned to Pepper once more.

“So, Miss Pepper Potts is going to make it big. I can happily say I know you and have done since before the fame and glory gets to your head.” Tony smirked, avoiding a swipe from his friend and sitting back. 

“Well, Tony, I actually wanted to ask you a favour.” Pepper’s excitement died down as she looked at her hands, fiddling with the little bee charm attached to her purse. “A pretty big one, actually.” 

“What is it?”

“I wanted to know if you’d come play piano for the track I’m recording. They said I could bring somebody in for my first and I couldn’t think of any other pianist I’d want.”

Tony took a second, completely in shock by the question and blinking dumbly for a few moments. Him? Playing for a professional music track? With Pepper? 

“Are you sure you want  _ me _ ? Surely there are more qualified pianists-.”

“Like I said, there’s only one I want and that’s you, Tony. Please, will you think on it?” 

The pleading look on Pepper’s face was one Tony had always had a weakness for and she knew it. She knew it and used that power wisely.

“I’ll think on it, give me a deadline to decide and I’ll text you.” He said finally, a little unsure but not wanting to disappoint.

“Fantastic, I’ll expect an answer by the end of next week, okay? I can send you the sheet music while you decide.” 

Their drinks were brought to them and placed down, Tony giving a soft groan of satisfaction at the smell of coffee and Pepper rolling her eyes at him. 

“Well, speakin’ of surprises, you’ll never guess what I found out.” Tony grabbed a sugar packet and shook it, tearing off the corner and tipping the contents into his drink. He repeated the process three times, watching Pepper grow more and more frustrated with him. 

“What? What have you found out?” She finally said, exasperated in her tone. “Come on, tell me.”

“I found out who lives in the flat above, the one with the music.” Tony blew on his coffee and took a sip, sighing and closing his eyes. 

“Tell me  _ everything _ ,” Pepper demanded, sitting back and blowing on her tea patiently. Her smile only grew at Tony’s expression, though it curled in confusion as her friend suddenly frowned. “What? What is it?”

“Well, let me explain. After New Year they suddenly disappeared, right? Poof, gone, without a trace, and there was silence. Tonight, for the first time in  _ months _ , I heard something.” Tony paused to sip his drink, “god, Pep’, it was  _ awful _ .”

“Awful?! You can’t be talking about the same musician?”

“I am. Violinist, but something was just wrong. It was like they’d never picked up a violin before! I, uh, heard some shouting and a crash after only a second of playing and got worried. Went to go see if they were okay-.”

Pepper chuckled quietly and shook her head, “you mean you got nosy and you had to see who they were?”

“... Okay, maybe. But Pepper, this guy was  _ not  _ what I expected when I knocked on the door. Tall, with something I can only call a depression beard because nobody would have one of them by choice, and his violin was broken on the floor!” Tony held his hands up as though asking God  _ why _ , his flare for the dramatic as big as ever. “He was  _ rude _ , and he clearly didn’t want to be disturbed. Getting his name was the most personal thing of the conversation and his name bloody suits him. Stephen Strange.”

Tony had expected Pepper to react, but not in the way she did. She nearly spat out her tea, her eyes wide as she stared at Tony as though he were some kind of alien specimen. 

“Did you just say  _ Stephen Strange _ ?” Pepper asked, wiping her mouth with a tissue she had pulled from her bag. 

“Yeah, I did. The bastard was impossible to talk to-!”

“Tony, when you get home, google his name. Trust me, you won’t regret it.” She grinned, her eyes shining with excitement. “If this is the Stephen Strange I’m thinking of, he is definitely your mystery maestro.”

The mention of the fond nickname hurt, especially since Tony hadn’t gotten off on the best foot with the man. But, Pepper’s excitement was a curious thing, and so instead of waiting he whipped out his phone while sipping on his coffee.

Searching Stephen’s name, Tony promptly went to spit his own drink in surprise. 

“What do you mean he’s a Billboard nominee? Are you kidding me?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! It develops a bit of Tony and Pepper's friendship as it currently stands and who would've thought about Stephen, huh? ;) 
> 
> Also I owe the phrase 'depression beard' so my dear friend shiverfawkes who writes some incredible stuff! ;) Go check them out! 
> 
> Until next time!


	3. The Fall Of Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony learns about Stephen Strange, Billboard nominee, violinist, modern music's Icarus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm so sorry about the delay, I've been rather busy with family matters and this chapter gave me a few issues. But, I'm glad to say that this chapter has a few things that are important, things to remember for later. When the time comes, I look forward to seeing who figures out what. As always, thank you to everyone who has kudos'd, commented, bookmarked and subscribed!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Next time; Tony faces the piano for the first time in months, bordering on a year. Will he overcome his nerves? Will he decide to play for Pepper? Where does Stephen fit in all of this?!
> 
> Until next time!

“You can’t be serious.”

“I really am, Tony. That’s him, isn’t it?.” 

Pepper’s eyes shimmered in the flickering lights as she flashed a smile at the man sat across from her, resting her chin on the back of her hand as she watched him scroll through the article he had discovered.

It was him, somehow. Stephen Strange, Billboard nominee, professional violinist and most importantly Tony’s mystery maestro. Pictured in a rather sharp looking suit of navy blue, his alabaster skin so clear and pure in the spotlight, there was no way to deny those sharp eyes were indeed belonging to the man living above him.

“That doesn’t make any  _ sense _ ,” Tony huffed while staring at the photo, letting his thumb run over the screen while he drank in the sight. While tidied up, Stephen didn’t look half bad. 

The memory of seeing him standing in the doorway, with his mangy hair and his scraggly beard that screamed depression, floated in unbidden. Tony’s chest filled with sadness as he recalled the sight of the violin broken on the floor. 

Scrolling through a few adverts and reaching the bottom of the webpage, Tony noticed the related articles. 

_ STAR MUSICIAN FOUND IN CAR CRASH! _

There was a pile up of about ten vehicles just outside of New York City, the cause due to ice that had been missed by the authorities on one of the main roads. Amongst the rubble was a car that had suffered from the initial collision impact, sliding off of the main road and overturning in the process. 

Stephen Strange, who had been on the way back from the award ceremony, was rushed to hospital. 

_ BILLBOARD NOMINEE LEAVES LABEL AFTER CAR CRASH! _

Another article, another revelation. Stephen Strange had reportedly had suffered some serious injuries to his hands. Rumoured shattering of bones and extensive nerve damage made Tony wince and suck in a breath through his teeth. After a period of recovery, the musician officially left his label and practically disappeared.

If this was half of the truth, there was no wonder why Stephen no longer could play. 

_ STEPHEN STRANGE; MODERN MUSIC’S ICARUS. _

Like a spark, Stephen Strange had burst onto the music scene and had burned bright. He had captured the hearts of fans from many different ages worldwide with his beautiful music, the sound of his violin one-of-a-kind. But, with his fast fame came the downfall, the whispers of dirty deals, sex scandals, alcohol came from the shadowed recesses of the internet in the form of bright red gossip columns. 

“Awful, isn’t it?” Pepper piped up, seeing the flash of irritation in Tony’s eyes. 

“No wonder the guy went all quiet, the press were all over him.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, shaking his head. It explained the harsh behaviour, the reluctance to speak to anyone, just in case they belonged to some tabloid or another. It was self preservation. 

Drinks now consumed, they settled into a companionable silence reminiscent of many many dates after old rehearsals. They managed to sit like that for half an hour, then Pepper’s phone buzzed and just like that they were done. With a hug and a kiss to the cheek, Pepper walked into the ran as it poured overhead, leaving Tony to trudge back to the flat with so much more on his mind. 

*******

The weekend came and rolled by, Monday soon arriving and filling Tony with a kind of excitement he hadn’t felt in months. Sat in the garage with oil staining his hands and smudged onto his cheek, he could only feel a sense of incredible satisfaction as he finished up the servicing of the motorcycle he had been left in charge of. That evening when he’d get home, he’d have a fully tuned piano ready to play. The sheet music that Pepper had sent him he had already printed out and had waiting in a brand new folder. 

When he had initially seen the music he had hummed along to the tune, swaying as he stood by the window and trying to piece together what it would sound like with vocals. Even now he thought about it, humming softly as he grasped a yellow rag and began to clean up the bike as though he were in his own world. 

Once song became another, tunes from soul to pop to rock pouring from his lips as he poured all of his attention into cleaning. With each individual tempo he found his head bobbing, his hips jutting side to side, his foot tapping, always something moving to whatever he had in mind. It was when he held a can of wax like some sort of microphone he was interrupted, a cough coming from the doorway. 

Embarrassed, Tony turned quickly and shoved the can behind his back, looking rather like a child that had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. His cheeks flushed a soft pink and he gave a cock-sure grin, hoping it would offset his embarrassment. 

“Can I help you?”

The man standing in the doorway covered his mouth with a hand to try and hide the quite obvious grin he was sporting, his cobalt eyes sparkling with mirth. The subtle tremors of his shoulders were enough to tell Tony he was being laughed at, earning a quiet huff in response. 

“Sorry, I’m here to pick up my bike?” The stranger finally spoke, walking over and eyeing Tony up and down. “The name’s Steve, Steve Rogers.”

Great. A customer had seen him acting like a complete idiot, he was the epitome of professionalism. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Rogers. Tony Stark, I’ve been the engineer fixing her up for you.” He held his hand out with a faint smile, appreciative as Steve reciprocated and shook his hand. 

Steve turned towards the bike and looked it over, nodding his approval after a few minutes of close examination. He ran a hand through his sandy hair, ruffling it a little in the process. “Looks like you’ve done a good job, though we’ll have to see how she behaves out on the road.” 

Tony straightened a little in pride as he put away the tools he had been using, glancing over at the man as he appraised his work. “If there’s any problem,” he said hesitantly, “not that there should be, uh, you can always bring her back.” 

The blond chuckled a little and headed over towards the small counter in the corner of the space, leaning against it as he watched Tony pack away his things and scramble over to serve him. “Maybe I’ll get another musical number if I do,” he teased lightly, unable to help it as he gave a good-natured wink. 

“You’d have to pay for that,” Tony rolled his eyes, smirking as Steve fetched his card and paid for the maintenance. 

“Aren’t I already technically paying? Or do I have to tip for the concert?” He laughed, no longer hiding his amusement. “Do I get more than one song if I tip you a certain amount?” 

A sarcastic sigh of wistfulness left the engineer before he let out a laugh. Well, he could’ve had a worse response to the impromptu performance. “If only, if only.”

“Well, why don’t I see you down at any of the bars on karaoke night?” Steve tilted his head and eyed Tony carefully, “stage fright?”

“God no,” he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as the receipt printed out slowly, the machine whirring in complaint. “Just not my kind of scene, if I’m out it’s to drink.”

Thinking for a moment, Steve reached into his shirts breast pocket and plucked out a card, flicking it across the counter at Tony. With a friendly smile he shrugged, “well, if you decide maybe it is your scene and you’ve not got anyone to go, feel free to give me a call.” 

Surprise was written all over Tony’s face as he stared at the card, fumbling with the receipt and passing it over to the other man with a growing smile. Well, this was the first time he’d been asked to go drinking in a long time. Last time was probably before he’d quit playing. 

“Sure, I’ll give you a bell if I’m interested. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to pack up the shop and there’s plenty to do.”

“Of course, I’ll see you around, Tony!” 

Tony watched as he walked away, taking his bike with him. From outside of the doors he could hear the rumble of the engine, her purr as Steve rode away and left him to pack up. With a content sound he flicked on the radio and began to tidy things properly, putting the tools where they were, following health and safety protocol, and double checking that the locks would work once he’d left. 

Content, he began to hum once again, wiping his hands and then grabbing his jacket. He powered down the radio and left the garage with a spring in his step, excitement beginning to bubble as he realised he’d be able to play tonight. 

Truth be told, he couldn't think of a better way to spend his evening. 


End file.
